


Trans!Ryan WIP

by picht



Series: abandoned p!atd wips [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, M/M, Overstimulation, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Ryan, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: It goes like this:Ryan is fifteen, and he is still all long haired, skinny wristed beauty, like a bird with its hollow bones and soft feathers, all Ryan, and if you make jokes about it being a boy’s name I’ll literally punch you. He’s at school digging through his locker, and he hears it said in passing. A word with maybe six letters and, as far as he can tell, a terrible meaning that he’s not aware of. And this piques his interest, because he’s not quite used to hearing words that he doesn’t know the definition of. He assumes it’s some sort of slang, but he still looks it up on the internet when he gets home because he’s curious.And it turns out it is slang, really rude slang and he also learns several other words that have similar meanings, and Ryan doesn’t really get it, he’s never really been one for mindless hate, and he doesn’t understand what transsexual people could have done to warrant so much of it. So he looks that one up too. And after digging through tons of what he’s pretty sure is bullshit, he finds some real information, some answers to his questions, and a strange ache in his bones that he doesn’t have a name for.(trans!fic wip that i'll never finish but am publishing anyway)





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this all 2 years ago, along with several other patd wips that i'll never finish b/c i don't really care about patd/ryden anymore, but i was rereading them the other night and decided i should share them anyway, so here's this one even tho it means i can't steal my own trans awakening section for a trans!gerard way fic. i still might do that and just hope no one recognizes it lmao
> 
> there will be more wips that will be posted at some point, i'm not sure when tho. none of them are as long as this is. idk how the hell i wrote something this long like it is truly a mystery
> 
> cw for transphobic language: ryan uses some transphobic language in this to refer to himself by saying he was born a girl, but then follows it up by saying he doesn't really believe he was born a girl but that's what the doctors in the hospital room decided he was when he was born (aka he says he's dfab but he doesn't actually know what "dfab" means)
> 
> there's a lot of sex in this and i'm worried someone's gonna like accuse me of fetishizing trans people so like. fyi i am trans as hell and this is not me fetishizing trans people so much as shaping stories around actual lived trans experiences. trans people have sex, trans guys get eaten out and fucked and sometimes they even wear strap ons to fuck other people, it's shocking, i know
> 
> (the word ryan hears in the school hallway is the t slur but i'm dfab and, although i have been called the t slur before, i feel like it's widely a dmab trans/transfeminine specific slur and since i'm not transfeminine i feel very uncomfortable with the thought of using it in my writing, since fanwork doesn't exist in a vacuum and my usage of slurs still affects the oppressed people they target

Sometimes, when Brendon gets drunk and the only people around are friends who know about them, he wanders around and talks loudly to no one in particular about how big Ryan’s dick is. _Ryan’s monstercock_ , he’ll say, and everyone will look amused (some more so than others—Pete, who leers openly at Ryan’s crotch and tries not to laugh when Brendon challenges him to a duel for Ryan’s honor, as opposed to Spencer, who is torn between amusement and absolute horror).

Ryan, for his part, is kind of annoyed but mostly just flustered, partly because _oh my god, Brendon, stop talking about my dick in front of everybody_ , but also partly from the secret pleasure he takes in knowing that, no matter how ill-advised, Brendon is genuinely trying to help, that Brendon gets just as frustrated as Ryan when people accuse him of stuffing.

(Besides, it’s always a good feeling to know that when they all hear em>Ryan’s cock and they see Ryan, they imagine an Actual, Honest to God Penis attached to the rest of his body. And that even if that weren’t the case, Brendon would still shout from the mountain tops about how huge his boyfriend’s dick is.)

***

It goes like this:

Ryan is fifteen, and he is still all long haired, skinny wristed beauty, like a bird with its hollow bones and soft feathers, all _Ryan, and if you make jokes about it being a boy’s name I’ll literally punch you_. He’s at school digging through his locker, and he hears it said in passing. A word with maybe six letters and, as far as he can tell, a terrible meaning that he’s not aware of. And this piques his interest, because he’s not quite used to hearing words that he doesn’t know the definition of. He assumes it’s some sort of slang, but he still looks it up on the internet when he gets home because he’s _curious_.

And it turns out it is slang, really rude slang and he also learns several other words that have similar meanings, and Ryan doesn’t really get it, he’s never really been one for mindless hate, and he doesn’t understand what transsexual people could have done to warrant so much of it. So he looks that one up too. And after digging through tons of what he’s pretty sure is bullshit, he finds some real information, some answers to his questions, and a strange ache in his bones that he doesn’t have a name for.

What he _doesn’t_ find, is any particular thing transsexual people ( _transgender_ , he corrects himself in his head, and doesn’t understand the way his heart feels like it’s going to burst, so he mostly ignores it) have done to be put through so much shit, and the entire situation leaves him feeling sort of empty, like someone stretched his skin tight, tight, tight until it ripped in two and they could reach through to his ribcage and hollow out all his insides.

***

(Ryan doesn’t understand, is the thing, and Ryan doesn’t like not understanding things, so he does more research, and he learns about Sylvia Rivera, Martha P. Johnson, The Stonewall Riots, and maybe sometimes late at night he lays in bed wide awake, and maybe sometimes he cries, and somewhere along the way he thinks transgender. transgender. trans. and his skin feels too tight and his bones feel too fragile and he thinks he gets it, thinks he has a name for that feeling now, and it is the most terrifying and exhilarating thought he’s ever had.

 _Curiosity killed the cat_ , Ryan thinks, _but satisfaction brought it back_.)

***

It’s weird, how things that never bothered him Before suddenly _hurt_. He tries not to look in the mirror when he’s changing, tries not to look down when he’s naked, or when he’s peeing. He doesn’t really mind his boobs much; they’re pretty small anyway, and he kind of likes the way they look in pretty bras and tight shirts. He was never really the curviest person in general, which he used to be annoyed by but now thinks is probably for the best.

The only real issue when it comes to his body is the fact that he doesn’t have a dick. Sometimes he looks down or looks at himself in the mirror and sees empty space where a penis should be (he _thinks_. He’s never actually seen one in real life but he’s pretty sure he has a good enough idea of how it works to know where exactly it’s supposed to go). He still has to touch himself down there when he showers, and he feels folds upon sensitive folds, and it’s strange how something that he used to sort of like has turned into the worst part of his existence.

Also, the only way he can masturbate now is through his clothes (or underwear, sometimes, if he’s having a good day and the panties don’t bother him, because it’s only been a few months since The Realization and he hasn’t yet worked up the courage to go buy _boy underwear_ ), which is, in itself, sort of a tragedy.

He thinks maybe he’s bad at this whole trans thing, because he is somewhat fond of his breasts and most days he still likes to wear makeup and sometimes even a skirt or dress, but he’s never really been one for conforming to what people think he should and should not do and he figures it doesn’t make sense for that to change now just because he fancies himself a rebellious boy instead of a rebellious girl.

***

Ryan’s started actively being Ryan, Who Is A Boy for about a year before he tells Spencer. It’s something he thinks about for a long time, and he’s pretty proud because he’d always sort of thought that telling Spencer would be something that happened in the heat of an argument or something, but he’s planned it all out. He even has a speech prepared and everything.

They’re sitting in Spencer’s room, silently working on homework, when Ryan just kind of squints at Spencer for a moment before blurting out, “I’m a boy,” and then promptly forgetting every word of the speech he’d prepared.

Spencer doesn’t say anything, and Ryan knew this was a bad idea, he knew, and he can’t look at Spencer and Spencer says, “...I mean. You’re gonna have to give up some more details, but. Okay, I guess.” He pauses and Ryan takes a deep breath, lets it out, and Spencer says, “Does this mean you want to be called ‘he’ now?”

And Ryan knew this was a good idea.

***

Spencer is so great, he is the best friend ever and also Ryan’s favorite person. “You’re so great,” Ryan says. “You’re totally the best friend ever and also my favorite person.” Spencer rolls his eyes and continues to stare at Ryan’s crotch. Ryan is seventeen years old and somehow, through questionably legal means and perhaps a little magic, he has managed to acquire himself a dick.

He stayed up all night trying to make some sort of makeshift harness for it out of old boxer briefs and, for all intents and purposes, it is doing its job of keeping the packer up and in place pretty well. The issue, now, is that it seems that no matter how Ryan adjusts it, he still looks like he has a huge boner.

“Dude, I’ve put a lot of thought into the position of your dick–and that is the most horrifying thing I’ve ever said, by the way–but have you considered that maybe you don’t have it positioned weirdly? Like, maybe it’s just really big or something,” Spencer says, glancing up from Ryan’s zipper, and it’s actually a good point, but it also means that unless Ryan starts wearing looser pants or skirts more often, he is going to look like he has a hard-on every moment of every day. Probably he could be more disheartened by that.

“You want to see it?” Ryan asks. He figures he should be more embarrassed about the fact that he just offered to show his best friend his cock, but Spencer’s been there for so many weird, mortifying things in the past year (see: The Binder Incident) that Ryan’s pretty damn shameless by now, and he’s _proud_ of his dick, okay, it’s a pretty good dick, so he ignores Spencer’s cry of _fuck, no, oh my god_ and undoes his pants, reaches down, and pulls the thing out.

It _is_ pretty big, Ryan thinks, and he’s so busy laughing at Spencer’s threats to kill him that he barely even registers the flood of warmth that passes through his body at that thought.

***

Ryan is nineteen and they have a band and he takes extra precaution to never run into anybody he knew from high school ever again and he owns four binders and two packers and he has less hair on his head and more hair in his armpits. But he also owns bras and skirts and dresses and makeup and he’s learned that he really doesn’t mind panties, if he’s wearing a packer with them. He really only wears that stuff around Spencer and Spencer’s absurdly accepting family, though, because it just confuses Brent and he’s a little terrified of running into somebody whose understanding is that he is Ryan, Who Is A Cis Boy, and them just looking at him and _knowing_. Even if someone recognized him in a dress but it didn’t somehow make them automatically aware of his trans-ness, it still probably wouldn’t end well. Cisgender crossdressers, he thinks, maybe don’t have to deal with as much shit as trans people, but they still have to put up with a relative amount of shit.

Anyway, Ryan is _happy_. Really the only person in his life who doesn’t view him as Ryan, Who Is A Boy, is his dad, which sucks, but is probably better than his dad finding out and doing something drastic. Ryan doesn’t think there’s much of a risk of him finding out, anyway. His dad is not the most observant of people.

Ryan is happy.

And then. And then. And then.

Brendon.

***

Brendon is—Brendon is kind of a lot to take in.

His clothes are a little too loose; his t-shirt looks worn, advertising some summer camp in big block letters on the back, and his too long, fade jeans are frayed at the bottom where they drag across the ground. He’s wearing glasses, thick and clunky and bright fucking red, and his hair looks sort of like it doesn’t fit his head. It’s definitely not the kind of thing Ryan usually finds attractive, but it works for Brendon. He’s cute, and as soon as this thought crosses Ryan’s mind he tries to hide it, only glancing up at Brendon for a moment before looking back down at the guitar in his lap, going for nonchalant and probably succeeding at fooling everyone but Spencer, who looks at Ryan like he can see into the deepest corners of his mind.

So Brendon’s cute, but it’s not a big deal, really. Ryan is attracted to lots of people, but he’s only ever been in two relationships in the past four years, because it takes more than some physical attraction for him to let his guard down to people, so he’s used to the feeling that spreads through his gut when he looks at Brendon for the first time, the feeling that says, _attractive, but unattainable_. He’s probably straight, anyway. It’s really not a big deal.

Then Brendon picks up a guitar and starts to play, and every move Ryan makes for the next hour is very deliberately unconcerned.

“So, Brendon was nice. Cool, and stuff,” Spencer says later, after they’ve decided to let Brendon the band and he and Brent have headed home. It’s a fairly innocent statement, but the expression on Spencer’s face is nothing but mischievous. The noise Ryan makes reveals nothing. “Did you like him?” Spencer asks, and he is not even a little bit subtle.

“Dude, I’ve had this binder on all day, my boobs hurt,” Ryan says in favor of gracing it with an actual response, and doesn’t feel a little bit sorry even as Spencer starts protesting at the mention of Ryan’s boobs, because Spencer totally deserves it.

(When Spencer’s finished though, he pauses for a moment, thinking, before saying, “Seriously, Ry, are you okay? Is it too tight? I don’t want you to, like, accidentally suffocate,” and Ryan rolls his eyes but can’t help his smile.)

***

Ryan doesn’t want to tell Brendon.

Brendon, who blatantly flirts with him, who gives him so much attention, who doesn’t even really try to mask the way that he always watches Ryan. He’s kind of like a puppy, and Ryan isn’t used to that kind of attention, and he _likes_ it. He doesn’t want it to stop. He doesn’t want to tell Brendon.

Because when Brendon looks at Ryan he sees a boy with a penis and Ryan thinks it’s already kind of miraculous that Brendon is so open minded about sexuality even when he’s bisexual, what with his religious upbringing. The chances of Brendon being introduced to the idea that some boys have vaginas and some girls have penises, that _Ryan_ is included in that ‘some’, and not either laughing or calling Ryan a girl or leaving the band and refusing to ever talk to Ryan again, seem pretty damn slim. Ryan doesn’t want Brendon to call him a girl, or laugh at him, or never talk to him again. Ryan doesn’t want Brendon to leave the band. Ryan is perfectly content with Brendon never knowing if it means avoiding those things.

Spencer thinks Ryan is being ridiculous.

He says as much, one day, literally looks at Ryan and says, “You’re being ridiculous.” Ryan pretends he doesn’t hear. “You told Brent, and that went okay.”

“Yeah, it went okay, but Brent still has trouble and he still doesn’t quite understand, even without the influence of a disapproving religion his entire life. Brendon _has_ had that influence. Not everyone is like you and your family, Spencer. In fact, most people aren’t.”

There must be something about Ryan’s tone, some note of desperation that Spencer picks up, because instead of arguing further he just punches Ryan lightly in the shoulder and says, “I still think you’re being stupid and that you should just tell him,”—He pauses for emphasis because Spencer is a total drama queen—“But I get it.”

They eat dinner with Spencer’s family and he doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the night.

***

Brendon asks him out. Brendon literally says, “You should go out with me. Like, on a date. Or something,” and Ryan really doesn’t want to say no, but he also _really_ doesn’t want to begin any type of relationship with somebody who doesn’t already know about him. Ryan tells Brendon he’ll think about it, and then immediately flees to call Spencer.

“Brendon asked me out,” Ryan says. Spencer just laughs, and Ryan doesn’t even know why he likes him. “Hey, fuck you, I’m having a crisis here.” There’s a pause.

“I know you have your whole deep, tortured soul thing that requires you to be super pessimistic or whatever, and that you’re convinced the only possible outcome is the end of the world, but, Ry, what if it’s not the case? What if by not telling him, you’re missing out on some really good things?” Ryan squeezes his eyes shut tight and imagines it: Brendon finding out, Brendon not being freaked out or disgusted, kissing Brendon, holding hands with Brendon, and the warm fluttery feeling in his stomach makes him feel kind of stupid, but also kind of happy. He breathes.

"Bye, Spence,” he says, instead of actually replying, and he’s pretty sure it shouldn’t give anything away, but when Spencer says bye, Ryan can practically hear the smile in his voice.

***

“I have a vagina,” Ryan says, and then immediately thinks that he shouldn’t have been so blunt.

Brendon stares silently, with eyes almost as big as the knot in Ryan’s throat. Ryan works very hard on making his expression and voice seem as unaffected as possible, and soldiers on.

“I mean, I was born a girl. Or, well, I don’t really think I was born a girl technically because I’m not sure people are actually born different genders, but just, all the doctors and stuff said I was a girl. Because I have a vagina.” Brendon is still silent, and sitting very still. Ryan hadn’t even thought it was possible for Brendon to sit still. “Trans. Transgender. That’s–that’s what it’s called. It’s not, like, really weird or anything. There’s not anything wrong with me. Lots of people are trans. And it doesn’t make me any less of a boy or anything. Because I am. A boy, that is.” Ryan takes a deep breath. Lets it out. Brendon blinks.

“...Okay,” Brendon says, and Ryan thinks, _fuck_ , because it shouldn’t be so easy, his life is never this easy, there has to be _something_ , a catch of some sort, and Ryan stands up very tall and waits for the ball to the drop. “I–I mean. I’m not gonna, gonna pretend I really understand, because I don’t exactly, but, okay. I think.” he starts to laugh and Ryan’s heart drops to his knees. Brendon just says, “Dude, you totally turned my entire worldview upside down, why do you keep doing this, Ross?” and very slowly, Ryan starts to breathe again.

He bites his lip, says, “Spencer and his family know too. So does Brent. And now you. That’s it, really,” and doesn’t mention the two exes who know as well, because Brendon’s smile is tentative but it’s still a _smile_ , and he still has that flirty look in his eye that Ryan pretends not to love, so he thinks maybe now is not the best time to mention exes.

“Is this why you wouldn’t go on a date with me?” Brendon asks suddenly. “Does this mean you will now?” Ryan pretends that his heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst any second.

***

They go to see a movie. Brendon wraps his pinky finger around Ryan’s and glances towards the older boy to make sure it’s okay. Ryan glances down at their hands as subtly as possible and bites back a smile.

No one mentions it, but Ryan’s pretty sure that at some point before the date, Brendon talked to Spencer. He wonders if maybe they think he’ll be upset by it, when in reality every time it seems like Brendon knows exactly what to do or say, something nice and kind of bubbly dances around in the pit of his stomach, and mostly he’s just grateful.

***

There are more dates. They kiss, and it’s nice. One day during practice Brendon announces very loudly to Spencer and Brent (and Spencer’s mom, who’d come into the garage for a moment looking for an old chair or something) that Ryan is his Official Boyfriend, and then kisses Ryan on the cheek, and Spencer threatens to kill him, and Ryan sports a faint blush for the rest of practice, and he is quite possibly the happiest he’s ever been.

***

So, sex.

Ryan’s dated exactly two people in his life other than Brendon. The closest to sex he ever got with either of them was maybe some touching over clothes. 

Ryan didn’t like it, is the thing. He didn’t like the idea of being in such an intimate situation. Of having to remove his binder, his packer, in front of anybody who isn’t Spencer (and maybe it’s weird that he’s more comfortable being naked in front of his best friend that in front of a romantic partner, but whatever. They’re practically brothers. Ryan’s totally seen Spencer naked too). Over the years he’s moved on from only being able to rub himself off through his clothes to being able to get himself off without clothes on, but that’s still a whole other world from doing it with a partner. Ryan hadn’t even been sure that he’d ever even think about getting off with another person until Brendon came along.

Ryan dwells on this as Brendon is helping him remove his binder. And then he’s naked from the waist up and Brendon is staring and Ryan can’t really think much at all past the embarrassment he feels.

Brendon goes to do something—what, Ryan isn’t totally sure—when he looks up, and there must be something in Ryan’s expression, because Brendon stills and asks, “Are you okay?”

“It’s just,” Ryan starts, and bites his lip. “I’m not–I’ve never,”—He takes a breath, shuddering with anxiety—”I’m just, I think I’m worried that. That it’s easier to accept me as a boy when you can’t see… _things_.” He can see from the look on his face that Brendon understands.

“Ry. Ryan,” Brendon says, voice quiet, eyes wide. “Ry. You are a boy. You are, and nothing will change that, and I am perfectly capable of admiring your body without forgetting that it’s a _male body_. And I do. Admire it. You’re kind of super hot,” he says it, Ryan knows, to try to defuse the tension, but also there’s something about the look in Brendon’s eye that makes Ryan think that perhaps it’s not just a joke. “ _But_ ,” Brendon starts, and then pauses, looking Ryan in the eye. “But, it’s your body, and I don’t pretend to completely understand your limits, what you are and are not comfortable with, so if I do anything you don’t want me to, you’re gonna have to let me know.”

He starts reaching with his hand, now, moving it towards Ryan’s breast, slow enough that Ryan can tell him to stop at any moment.

Ryan doesn’t, and when Brendon cups his hand gently around it and swipes his thumb across a sensitive nipple, the shuddery breath Ryan takes isn’t from anxiety.

***

They do that, for a while—making out and maybe some naked-above-the-waist groping, and it’s fine, it’s _awesome_ , and Brendon is so understanding and patient that Ryan sometimes thinks it’s too good to be true.

So they stick to just that for a while, not even bringing up the possibility of any Below The Waist action, and then one day they’re kissing, pressed up against each other, and suddenly Ryan can feel Brendon’s dick, hard through their clothes, and he pauses for a moment.

Brendon seems to understand immediately what’s wrong and he separates himself from Ryan quickly, apologizing over and over again, and Ryan thinks maybe he should be freaked out, knows that a week ago he _would_ have been freaked out, but the blush making its ways up his neck definitely isn’t from some sort of panicking, and he thinks, _oh_.

He pulls Brendon back towards him gently, and when they’re close enough that he can feel the heat of Brendon’s cock again, he shyly rocks his hips forwards into Brendon’s, biting his lip at the throbbing between his legs. Meanwhile, Brendon stares at him with wide eyes, looking like he’s forgotten how to breathe, and when he slowly moves to roll on top of Ryan, Ryan just spreads his legs more.

Brendon doesn’t even try to get rid of Ryan’s jeans, which Ryan is thankful for. Instead they end up just grinding against each other, and Ryan can barely believe they’ve even gotten _this_ far, but he’s certainly not regretting it.

Brendon’s got Ryan under him and is rolling his hips down, figuring out quickly just the right angle to take to make Ryan’s packer rub against his clit in a way that has him so desperate to get off that he gives up all traces of shame in favor of kneading his own breasts because Brendon’s hands are busy gripping his hips, rubbing and pinching his nipples while he ruts and thrusts up against Brendon till he can no longer keep his eyes open and he comes hard enough that he’s shaking. The sight is enough to make Brendon come as well, seconds after Ryan. And then maybe get hard again when he realizes the reason Ryan keeps shifting around is because he’s sensitive enough that even the little amount of friction the small movements are causing between his packer and clit are enough to make him come again a few minutes later.

(At the next band practice Spencer takes one look at the way Ryan’s face flushes when Brendon winks at him, and starts rummaging around in a corner of the garage covered in junk. When Ryan asks what he’s doing, he says, “Looking for a shovel so I can go outside and start digging Urie’s grave.” Brendon grins and announces that if he dies because of their _evening together, expressing their true love, seriously Smith it was beautiful_ , it will have been totally worth it. Spencer says that perhaps he’ll make Brendon dig his own grave. Ryan doesn’t talk to either of them for at least an hour after this.)

***

So now most of their dates consist of going somewhere private and grinding against each other till they come in their pants, which, really, Ryan has no problem with that. Definitely not. But one day he has a _dream_ , a dream in which Brendon is fingering him slowly, rubbing his clit with his thumb, and when he wakes up throbbing it barely takes two minutes for him to come once he’s worked his hand into his boxers, and he thinks, _fuck._

And, Ryan realizes, he trusts Brendon. It’s a terrifying, exhilarating thought, but he does. And he’s scared, sure, but he’s also seen Brendon’s hands running across a keyboard, gripping a guitar, being sucked into Brendon’s mouth because he’s the sloppiest eater ever, and, like. _Shit_.

He _is_ scared though. He’s scared every time he and Brendon do anything together since he’s decided to Go To The Next Level. He’s scared when he finally works up the courage, scared as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them, scared as Brendon realizes what’s happening and rushes to help get his pants off, help remove his packer. He’s scared when he stands there totally and completely naked, waiting in horrifying silence as Brendon’s eyes roam over his body.

Ryan’s scared, so he has his eyes shut tight, so he’s not expecting the first gentle touch of Brendon’s fingers, moving around a bit to find his clit and then going to fucking town, and then he’s not scared anymore, because he’s not really much of anything other than _morefasterharderplease_ —

Needless to say, Ryan does not regret it.

***

Things are good. Things are _great_. Ryan is getting off regularly and he keeps thinking nothing can get better than it already is but he keeps being proven wrong. Then Brendon walks in on him when he’s sitting in his room alone in a bra and panties and all Ryan can think is, fuck.

Brendon just stands there, in the doorway, staring with wide eyes and an open mouth, and Ryan is mortified. “It’s not,” he starts, and pauses because actually it probably is exactly what it looks like. “I’m not, this isn’t, I’m–”

“Ryan,” Brendon says, but it sounds more like a groan than anything, and it’s always surprising, how low Brendon’s voice is, but, like, in a really good way. He rushes over to the bed, where Ryan is laying down, book still in his hands but all but forgotten, and then he stops, flails his arms around a bit, and it really shouldn’t be hot but Brendon’s not even trying to mask the hunger in his expression and Ryan finds himself biting his lip. “Can. Can I…?” Brendon asks, and gestures vaguely towards Ryan’s body, swallowing hard as he catches Ryan’s eye.

Ryan’s throat feels thick with embarrassment, but there’s something else there too now, something deeper and hotter. He closes his eyes and nods.

Brendon takes a moment to take off his jeans and then crawls up onto the bed, straddling Ryan, careful to proportion his weight in a way that doesn’t crush the other boy. He splays a hand across Ryan’s stomach before moving up to trace across Ryan’s ribcage, just below the underwire of the bra. It’s red and lacy, one of Ryan’s favorites, and the way the material rubs against him when Brendon cups his breasts through it shoots something hot and buzzing down his spine to the pit of his stomach.

Ryan arches his back up as Brendon goes to unclasp the bra, and the next thing he knows it’s on the floor and Brendon’s latched his mouth around a nipple, sucking hard, running his tongue over the bud over and over before switching sides and doing it again.

Ryan gasps, and Brendon moves downward, licking and sucking across Ryan’s abdomen till he gets just above the top of the panties, grazing his teeth across a hipbone as he looks up at Ryan, questioning.

Ryan knows what Brendon’s asking even without the question being voiced, and it sends a thrill through him. Brendon’s seen him completely naked, before now. He’s seen Ryan. He’s rubbed hard and fast and slow and gentle across Ryan’s clit, long fingers against sensitive flesh, skin on skin. He’s even fingered Ryan once or twice. But this, this thing that Brendon is asking—they’ve never done this.

Brendon is patient as Ryan takes a moment to think about it, imagining Brendon’s mouth there, licking across Ryan’s cunt, lapping at his clit, sucking on it, pushing inside, hot and throbbing, with his tongue. Ryan bites his lip, closes his eyes, and nods.

He keeps his eyes closed as Brendon peels away the panties, takes a moment to admire Ryan’s cock before removing it as well, carefully pulling the makeshift harness down Ryan’s legs. Ryan keeps his eyes closed, a feeling of hot, anxious excitement tingling throughout his body, till the first lick of Brendon’s tongue. His eyes shoot open, then, as Brendon licks stripes up and down Ryan’s cunt, and he fucking yelps. Fuck, if he’d known it would feel like this, he’d have done this shit a lot sooner.

Brendon grazes his teeth across Ryan’s clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking hard and fast, moaning when Ryan jerks up into his mouth. He takes a moment to moan out, “Fuck, Ry, you’re so wet, so wet for me, shit, you’re so fucking hot like this, I’m so hard and I haven’t even been touched yet, because you’re so gorgeous,” and then dives right back in, easing his tongue inside Ryan gently, letting him get used to the stretch some before moving it, licking into him over and over, taking another moment to admire the way Ryan’s writhing in his bed sheets.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you with my tongue, holy shit,” Brendon says, and moves back to Ryan’s clit, flattening his tongue hard against it as Ryan starts rocking up into it, grinding hard against it and moaning, and when he looks down and sees the way Brendon’s grinding desperately into the mattress, hips moving obscenely, it’s enough to toss him over the edge, crying out as he continues to rock against Brendon’s tongue, riding out the orgasm and then whimpering when Brendon laps at him a few more times.

When Brendon looks up, he looks fucking wrecked, and his lips are red and swollen and shining obscenely and Ryan’s cunt throbs briefly at the sight. Ryan pulls Brendon up to him and allows himself a moment to moan appreciatively at the spot at the front of Brendon’s boxers wet with precum before shoving his hand down into them and jerking Brendon off, quick and dirty, thumb swiping across the head on each upstroke while Ryan leans forward and licks into Brendon’s mouth, realizing that he can taste himself and moaning at the fact, and when he moves down to Brendon’s neck and bites down, Brendon stills and goes stiff and Ryan can feel his cock throbbing as he works him through it.

(When Ryan puts his hand, covered in Brendon’s come, up to Brendon’s mouth, it’s mostly as a joke, and he’s definitely not expecting Brendon to greedily suck Ryan’s fingers into his mouth, moaning as he swallows around them. It’s easily one of the hottest things Ryan’s ever seen, though, and he’s not even embarrassed when he gets off again a few minutes later.)

***

So, like, Pete Wentz.

The day that Pete comes to hear them play is easily one of the most stressful days of Ryan’s life. The day a little after that, when he finally decides he has to tell Pete about the whole trans thing, is even worse. Brendon tells him if he doesn’t learn how to relax he’s gonna start growing grey hairs before he’s twenty-five, but then he goes to rub Ryan’s shoulders so Ryan decides not to punch him.

So that’s where they are right now, anyway, sitting in Spencer’s garage across from Pete preparing to tell him. Brendon and Spencer are there with him, and somewhere deep down Ryan thinks he should be upset that Brent isn’t there, but Brendon and Spencer are there, and Pete doesn’t say anything or seem particularly disgusted when Brendon gives Ryan a kiss to calm him down, so at least there’s that.

When Pete is not only cool with it, but supportive, Ryan doesn’t even think about the way that he seems to already know his shit and not even be a little bit confused or overwhelmed because he’s too busy forcing himself to keep from crying till Pete’s gone.

***

The night before they first go on tour, Brendon fucks Ryan for the first time. Ryan’s scared, he is so fucking scared, but he’s excited as well, and he trusts Brendon. Brendon stretches him open slowly with his fingers, with his tongue, knowing just the right amount of pressure to apply to Ryan’s clit to keep his mind off the initial burn of his fingers, his tongue, his— _fuck_ —cock slowly sliding in and out of Ryan, whispering filthy things in Ryan’s ear in the low voice he knows makes Ryan melt, the fucker, and Ryan can hardly remember why he was ever reluctant to do this in the first place.

***

It’s a few weeks after that, on a hotel night, in the room they’re sharing because Spencer and Brent would rather holdout for two rooms than sleep in the same room as Ryan and Brendon, that Ryan fucks Brendon for the first time.

They’re sitting on the bed, legs tangled together, and Ryan knows there’s something Brendon wants to say. He’s been doing the thing where he keeps staring at Ryan for a while in a way that he must think is subtle; not the I’m In Love With You stare, or the Let’s Have Sex stare, or even the You’re So Fucking Infuriating You’re Lucky I Love You Anyway stare. Brendon’s using his I Want To Say Something But I’m Not Sure How stare.

And, like, Ryan totally loves Brendon and all, but it’s really annoying. For all that Ryan wanted to become a famous musician, he’s not really a fan of being in the spotlight. “What?” Ryan finally asks, turning his head to look at Brendon during the commercial break from the weird local children’s show they’ve come across on the tv. Brendon’s eyes are wide, all deer in headlights, like he honestly thought Ryan wasn’t noticing the staring, and Ryan spares a moment to remember to tell Brendon that he’s the least subtle person alive—a fact that everybody knows, except Brendon.

“It’s, uh. It’s just. I’m, um. Uh.” Brendon stops, takes a breath, and starts again. “It’s just, I have something to, uh, to ask you.” Ryan just raises an eyebrow as if to say continue, and is confused when instead of continuing, Brendon stands up and walks over to his bag.

“I mean, um. I mean, you don’t have to! If you don’t want to, but. It’s just—” He’s kneeling down now, grabbing something from the duffle, before standing back up and squaring his shoulders in what looks like determination. “I want you to fuck me,” Brendon says, and turns around to reveal what appears to be a strap on with a harness.

“Holy shit,” Ryan hears himself say, but doesn’t feel entirely in control of his body right now. Brendon wants to be fucked. By Ryan. Wearing a strap on. “Holy _shit_.”

“You don’t–you don’t have to do it!” Brendon says quickly, and he’s not looking at Ryan so he can’t see the way that the older boy is biting his lip hard, face red, unconsciously rubbing his thighs together just at the thought.

“No, I…” Ryan starts, before stopping to take a deep breath. “I want–I mean. I want to do it.” Brendon looks at him then, eyes wide, and just stares for a moment before shyly making his way back to the bed.

“It’s.” Brendon says. Blinks. “I wasn’t sure, like, if it would work, you know, with your packer harness, and also, this, uh, it has a space for, like, a vibrator or whatever, for, uh. For your clit.” Brendon’s face is so red, and he’s stuttering, and Ryan’s not sure that precious is exactly what Brendon’s going for right now, but it’s all Ryan can think when he looks at the boy.

“It’s kind of. Big?” Ryan says quietly, staring at the toy.

“I, uh, I tried to find one that was the same size as your dick,” Brendon says, still obviously embarrassed, and it’s kind of fucked up but something about this is so alarmingly sweet that Ryan kind of just wants to pull Brendon to him and cuddle for a bit.

Except, cuddling Brendon would mean not, _shit_ , fucking him, which Ryan is pretty interested in doing right now.

Ryan eyes the toy and its harness a moment longer before looking up at Brendon, grabbing the strap on, fuck, and all but running to the bathroom.

It really is pretty big, Ryan thinks, as he looks at himself in the mirror. There had been a moment, when he had removed his packer but hadn’t put the thing on yet, that he was briefly terrified of suddenly becoming dysphoric, but now he has it on, jutting proudly out, and he doesn’t really feel much other than a rush of excitement at the thought of what’s about to happen. Maybe a little concern, because it is big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt Brendon, but mostly excitement—amplified by the way he can feel the small vibrator, tucked into a small pocket over his clit, bumping against him every time he moves.

Brendon has the remote for the vibrator, Ryan knows, and his stomach clenches with arousal at the thought of feeling those vibrations hard against his clit while he’s, _shit_ , fucking Brendon.

Ryan exits the bathroom, but stops in his tracks as he catches sight of Brendon, already naked on the bed, face flushed as he works a few fingers in and out of himself. “Fuck,” Ryan says, unconsciously rubbing his thighs together. Brendon looks over but doesn’t stop fingering himself, moaning instead when he appears to thrust in at just the right angle. Ryan clambers quickly over to the bed.

He crawls up so that he’s kneeling between Brendon’s legs, and asks Brendon if he’s ready. Brendon nods, and Ryan catches his breath as he reaches for the lube, slicks up, and starts to push in.

It’s slow going at first as he gives Brendon time to adjust, but things get rougher as Ryan hits Brendon’s prostate several times in a row, speeding up till he can hear his hips hitting Brendon’s ass with each thrust. Brendon writhes around on the bed, eyes clenched shut, shuddering and making little whimpering sounds as Ryan figures out the best angle to go from, and it makes his cunt throb so hard that it’s almost painful. Ryan wonders if Brendon’s forgotten he has the remote to the vibrator in his hand, and then briefly thinks he might not even need it to get off at this rate, the way that Brendon’s reaction to being fucked is affecting him, when suddenly the vibrator comes to life, buzzing hard, pushing tight against Ryan’s clit as he thrusts into Brendon.

The sudden, unexpected sensation makes Ryan’s hips jerk up violently, getting even deeper into Brendon than before, and he thinks he hears Brendon make a noise like a sob, vaguely registers that Brendon’s wrapped a hand around his own cock, working furiously, but it’s all sort of secondhand to the waves of pleasure crashing through Ryan every time the vibrator presses hard against him.

Ryan come just after Brendon does, but as he pulls out and collapses on the bed next to his boyfriend, he quickly realizes that Brendon hasn’t turned off the vibrator. He doesn’t even get to properly appreciate how hilarious the strap on looks sticking up in the air like it is because all he can focus on is the almost painful sensation of the vibrator still buzzing violently against his clit. He tries to school the unconscious way his hips are rocking up into the air as he looks over at Brendon questioningly, who just smirks before reaching over, wrapping his hand around the strap on, and pressing down so that the vibrator is pressed tight directly over Ryan’s overstimulated clit.

Ryan jerks hard, shouting, and squeezes his eye shut as Brendon just holds it there. Ryan knows that if he asked to stop, Brendon would immediately, but he can feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, almost too much, as his hips make these little aborted, jerky movements like they’re trying to get away from the pressure of the vibrator, and he just lets it all wash over him instead.

Ryan comes four more times before he can absolutely no longer take it, and then gives Brendon a blowjob when he notices that Brendon’s gotten hard again.

**Author's Note:**

> after this it pretty much just progresses the way that the real panic timeline progresses its just that here ryan is trans. it was def gonna end before the split but i dont really know where i was going with it beyond that + making patrick trans too (which is why pete seems like he already knows stuff about being trans)
> 
> just as a parting note i'd like to say that this was inspired by the fact that apparently ryan ross has a huge dick. i remember being 15 and looking at this one livejournal post that was just pictures of him with his dick visible through his pants and then thinking about how apparently packers tend to make it look like you have a huge boner (i don't know this from personal experience b/c i'm still underage and not out as trans to my parents so i don't, you know, actually own a packer) and being inspired. i looked at that livejournal post a lot. like. A Lot. i remember reading the words "ryan ross's monstercock" and then this fic was born


End file.
